April 2012
72 posts
“Glimpses do ye seem to see of that mortally intolerable truth; that all deep, earnest thinking is but the intrepid effort of the soul to keep the open independence of her sea; while the wildest winds of heaven and earth conspire to cast her on the treacherous, slavish shore?”
—
Herman Melville in Moby-Dick, quoted by American Roulette. The natural state of the soul: an open independence, depth; the wild winds of heaven and earth alike want to wreck her on trivia, occupy her with tedium: “news — the froth & scum of the eternal sea,” and “all that is transitory [and is therefore] but a symbol.”
Leisure: the form of reposed reflection in which the soul can recover independence, “that stillness that is the necessary preparation for accepting reality.” Most of what I spend my “free time” —ostensibly but not leisure— doing: chilling out on the slavish shore, cluttering my mind, yoking it to technopoly’s values, the market’s values. The soul’s sea has its own trash gyre.
(via mills)
Play
“how can someone inconsistant mess up so consistantly?”
—